Can't Fight the Moonlight
by LapsusAngelus18
Summary: Summary inside. This story is replacing 'The Truth About Draco', because I'd come to dislike the direction in which I'd taken it. Rated M for language, adult situations, and shameless smut. Post war, AU, and slight OOCness. Please read and review!
1. Granger's Surprise

**A/N: Okay, guys! I know. I_ know. _I keep deleting and re-uploading stories, usually with the same name, and generally the same topic, but this time I _swear_ it's different. This story is replacing The Truth About Draco, so hopefully, you'll find this one a little easier to read! As always, reviews are more than welcome! (They're practically required! Just kidding... kind of.) Hope you enjoy!**

**Summary: After the Second Wizarding War, most everyone who took part in the Battle of Hogwarts was offered a job at the Ministry. But not Draco Malfoy. So what's a seriously bored Slytherin to do while his parents are on House Arrest? He goes back to Hogwarts to finish his education, of course! When he's made Head Boy alongside Hermione Granger, (who, let's face it, is the obvious choice for Head Girl) will he let his old hatreds die hard? And more importantly, when he discovers a horrible family secret on All Hallows Eve, the night of a full moon, how is he going to explain to Hermione that he requires her help in brewing a certain potion? And how will the two of them react when it becomes very, _very_ apparent that Draco's inner beast has chosen Hermione as his mate? Things at Hogwarts might just get a little furry.**

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**- Draco -**

Draco Malfoy had never been one to wonder after the thoughts and feelings of a girl, much less care about what she thought about him. But as he sat at the Slytherin table, staring dejectedly down at his untouched plate of food, he had to wonder how she was doing it.

Hermione Granger sat on the other side of the Great Hall, her tinkling laughter clear above the din of the other voices. Usually, the sound of her laughter was a cause for great annoyance with the blonde Slytherin. But today, it was a cause for great confusion. Out of all people, the _last_ person Draco would expect to be in a good mood was Granger.

She, along with Draco and the rest of their class, had been invited back to Hogwarts for the newly formed eighth year. While it wasn't at all mandatory, Draco hadn't received the offer of a job at the Ministry, like everyone else had. He had nothing better to do.

Draco sat alone at the end of the Slytherin table – none of his old "friends" had deigned to return to Hogwarts, and none of the newer students wanted anything to do with him. He _was_ an ex-Death Eater, after all.

But despite that, McGonagall had selected him as Head Boy. The badge that was pinned to his chest had been the cause of several whispered discussions, ever since he'd gotten on the damned train.

He was already aware of whom his female counterpart was. Of course it was her – no one else was smart enough. Even from across the hall, the glint of Granger's Head Girl badge taunted him.

Sure, many of his old prejudices had died with Voldemort, but he still wasn't thrilled with the idea of facing Granger after what his deranged aunt had done to her. He had been horrible to her, and it had taken her being _tortured _right before his eyes for him to realize it.

Shoving his plate away from him, he glanced up and across the hall. Granger was deep in conversation with the Weaslette, the younger and new Gryffindors hanging onto their every word. _They _were the heroes of the war.

_ He _was the reason the Death Eaters were able to gain access to the castle. He was the reason Dumbledore was dead.

Groaning inwardly, he dropped his head down onto the table with a hollow _thunk. _By the time the feast was over, Draco's mood had grown considerably darker. When Flitwick dismissed the students to their dorms, Draco stood with a grunt. As Head Boy, it was his job to lead the First Year students down to the Slytherin dorms.

Glancing across the hall, he sighed. Of course. Granger was herding the First Years out of the Great Hall like she'd been born to do it. Rolling his eyes, he glanced back over his shoulder and jerked his chin in the direction of the doors. Nervously, the gaggle of First Years hurried after him, most of them whispering to each other.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Draco just continued walking, leading the First Years down into the dungeons.

Once they reached the wall which concealed the common room, Draco turned on his heel to face the students.

"Right. Well, this is how you get in and out of the common room. The password is top secret – you can_not_ tell any members of any other House this password. Doing so will result in Slytherin House losing points. Does everyone understand?"

"But sir..." one of the braver male students mumbled. "This is just a wall."

Draco's lips twitched into an almost-smile.

"That's what you think." he murmured. Turning his head, he whispered the password, and a previously concealed stone door slid to the side, revealing a rectangular entryway. Several of the students gasped, and Draco smirked before turning back to them.

"Any other questions?

The First Years around him all shook their heads, several of them still gaping at the hidden door. Draco nodded once at them.

"The password is 'Loyalty'. Easy enough to remember, right?" he mused. The First Years bobbed their heads in agreement, and Draco blew out a sigh. "Right. Good. Well... I'll leave you to it, then. Have... a good year."

Offering a small wave, Draco turned back down the hall, hurrying away and leaving the First Years in the hands of the Prefects.

His shoulders hunched, he headed for the third floor, where the Head's Dorm was located. Pulling the map McGonagall had given him out of the pocket of his robes, he studied the directions that would lead him to what would very probably be potentially _the_ most dangerous moments of his life.

Sighing, he glanced up when he came to the portrait he was looking for. A rather severe looking woman arched a brow down at him, her lips pursed and her jaw set.

"Password?" she asked, tone clipped.

_'Wonderful,' _he thought bitterly. _'Even the bloody paintings hate me.'_

"Albus Dumbledore." he replied quietly. The woman in the painting smiled very faintly, as if she could sense his guilt and was pleased by it, before the portrait swung open.

Taking a deep breath, he ducked through the portrait hole, and into the corridor that would lead him to the dorm room he would be sharing with the Gryffindor Golden Girl.

Steeling himself, he stepped into the room. Granger sat on a red leather couch, a book in her lap, and her sleeves on her sweater pushed up to her elbows. Her scars were in full view.

Glancing up at him, Granger smiled sweetly.

"Evening, Malfoy." she said chipperly.

He stood stock still in the entrance, blinking at the woman in front of him. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, and if the line of her jaw wasn't a clear indication of how she felt about him, Draco didn't know what was.

"Look, Granger..." he muttered, averting his eyes. "There was nothing I could have done about that... if I had, we would have both been killed."

Granger's eyes narrowed even further, but her smile didn't fade.

"Whatever are you talking about?" she asked, her chipper tone not changing. Draco did look at her then, his own eyes narrowing.

"The bloody _scars,_ Granger. I'm sorry, alright? I know you're fucking pissed at me. _I_ am pissed at me. I should have bloody helped you, but I was _scared._ Is that what you want? For me to admit how much of a _fucking coward_ I am?" he snapped. "Because it's the truth. I was a bloody fucking coward, and I was too terrified for my own ass to _do the right thing._ I let you _bleed,_ because I was too much of a fucking coward. Are you happy now?"

Granger studied him for a few moments, before finally, her jaw unclenched, and her eyes softened.

"No, I'm not." she said quietly. "I'm sorry – this wasn't your fault, and it's unfair of me to blame you. You're right... we both would have died. I don't blame you for this."

Draco blinked at her, feeling like he'd just been kicked in the gut. After all he'd done to her, after everything he'd put her through... here she was, telling him that she didn't blame him for something that, by all rights, she should have set him on fire for.

"Uh..." he muttered brilliantly.

Granger offered what might have been a smile, had it not been for the tense situation, closing her book.

"We're going to be living together all term, Draco." she said quietly. "Which means that we're going to have to find a way to get past this... hatred you have for me."

Draco shot her a look, momentarily dismissing the fact that she'd used his given name.

"I don't hate you." he said forcefully. "Not anymore... and I'm sorry that I was a complete ass to you. You saved my bloody life, after everything I put you through. For me to hate you now would be childish."

Granger arched a brow.

"Well." she muttered. "I... uh. I'm glad you feel that way."

"You are?" Draco asked, raising a brow of his own. Granger chuckled, getting to her feet.

"Well, yes, it is a bit of a relief to know that I won't be miserable for the duration of the year." she mused, a small smirk on her face.

"Ah... yeah. I guess." he muttered, averting his eyes again. Granger chuckled again, and he felt rather than heard her move closer to him.

"I don't hate you, Draco Malfoy. The sheer fact that you're here in this dorm with me leads me to believe that your intelligence is at least comparable to my own, and I look forward to getting to know you. The _real_ you." she said, and he looked up at her. She wore a small smile, and her head was tilted to the side in the most damnably adorable manner he had ever encountered.

"'At least comparable'?" he blurted. Granger was startled into laughing.

"Well, until you prove me wrong, I have to believe that Professor McGonagall was running low on options for the position of Head Boy." she teased. Draco blinked at her.

"Ouch." he muttered, and she laughed again. He found himself smiling at the sound.

_'Maybe this won't be so bad, after all.'_ he thought.


	2. Change of Heart

**A/N: So, this is the chapter in which Draco's conscience is kind of a catty bitch. :D Hah, I figured I'd add in some hints as to what his curse is, but... I'm decently sure you all have figured it out by now... anyway, I've been listening to Clarity by Zedd all night long, and I feel like it's the perfect song for Draco and Hermione. So, that being said, expect to see a lyric or two woven into future chapters.**

**I really hope you guys like this chapter. I'd been about to update a few days ago, before my computer crashed, and I had to factory reset the entire thing... sigh, thank GOD for flashdrives. **

_**Please**_** review. Please. I love hearing from you guys! :)**

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**- Draco -**

When the alarm on Draco's wand went off the following morning, he groaned. The sun hadn't yet fully risen, but as Head Boy, it was his duty to patrol the halls before classes began for the day.

Muttering about stupid rules, he rolled out of his warm bed, and padded towards his private bathroom. After a quick shower – the water pressure at Hogwarts never _had_ been ideal – Draco headed down the stairs leading from his room, and into the Common Room.

Granger was already awake, sitting at a table with her back facing him. From the smell wafting from the blue pewter mug that sat to her right, she was drinking very strong black coffee. The rustle of a newspaper told him that she was probably reading that morning's issue of _The Daily Prophet._

With her bushy brown hair swept back into a ponytail, she looked very... _Muggle._

Clearing his throat a bit to alert her of his presence, he stepped into the room. She twisted in her chair to look at him, a very small smile coming to her face.

"Morning," she greeted. Draco nodded in response, causing her smile to dim a bit. "I've made some coffee, if you'd like."

Granger paused, as Draco moved towards the little breakfast bar that separated the kitchenette from the living area, settling his book bag down onto the ledge.

"You... you _do _know what coffee is, right?" she asked. Draco snorted, casting her a dry look.

"Yes, Granger, I know what coffee is." he replied. "Do we have any cream or sugar? I don't intend to drink bitter mud."

Granger hid a smile behind her hand, before pointing to the refrigerator to his left.

"The cream is on the door, and the sugar is in the second cupboard to your right." she answered. Nodding, Draco pulled open the refrigerator, spotting the carton he was looking for almost immediately. Grabbing it from the shelf, he moved over to the cabinet Granger had gestured to, and took down the sugar.

"How in the world anyone can drink this stuff black is beyond me," he muttered, eying the pot of hot black liquid. He heard Granger chuckle quietly.

"You get used to it after a while, when you're on the run." she said softly. "When you've been awake for going on seventy-two hours, and you have nothing other than instant coffee and water from a creek, a cup of black coffee becomes a luxury. Even if it _does _taste like bitter mud."

Draco turned slightly to look at her.

"What was it like?" he asked, voice nearly inaudible. Grager surprised him by laughing, though the sound held no humor.

"The word 'dreadful' is too tame." she answered honestly. "It wasn't all bad, though. I had Harry and Ron, despite the fact that they appeared to grow tired of each others company after a while."

Draco snorted, turning to face her as he lifted his finished cup of coffee to his lips.

"Really, and I was of the impression that those two were inseparable." he mused. Granger chuckled, rolling her eyes as she drained the last of her coffee from her mug, and set the _Prophet _to the side.

"I'm going to go and start my rounds," she stated, getting to her feet. "See you in class."

With that, she swept out of the room, the sound of the portrait swinging shut behind her echoing oddly in the now empty room. Draco sighed, walking over to where she'd been sitting and snatching up the newspaper. The front headline caught his attention.

_**"MINISTRY DISCOVERS HIDDEN SECRETS AFTER FALL OF HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED, POSSIBLE NEW THREAT ON THE HORIZON."**_

"Wonderful," Draco mumbled, sitting down heavily in the seat Granger had just recently vacated as his eyes swept the paper for the mentioned article.

_**"Just as we believe the worst to be over, the remnants of You-Know-Who's short-lived reign come back to haunt us. **_

_** It was, until earlier this week, widely believed that lycanthropy could not be passed on from parent to child, but new evidence is now suggesting otherwise. The child of famed war heroes, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks has recently been showing signs of his late father's curse. **_

_** While the child's godfather and caretaker, the famed and celebrated Harry Potter himself has declined to comment on the child's condition, the Ministry of Magic has reason to believe that there may yet be children in this world born with the curse of lycanthropy.**_

_** Many of the werewolves who had been under the command of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named have been rounded up and thrown into Azkaban, but a dire warning from none other than Fenrir Greyback leads this reporter to believe that we may very well soon be facing a new and infectious threat.**_

_** For more information, you can write to Rita Skeeter at..."**_

Draco groaned, setting the newspaper down. Of course. Because nothing could ever be _easy._ Snatching up his barely touched cup of coffee, he carried it to the sink, before retrieving his book bag, and heading towards the portrait hole to do his rounds.

Striding down the hallway, he attempted to shove the thoughts of the article into the back of his mind. That, however, proved to be an impossible task.

How in the world had he not known about this? He _had _been a bloody Death Eater, after all. Shouldn't he know about the fact that lycanthropy can be passed from parent to child? Did his parents know about this? He would have to owl them later after classes let out.

Sighing, he rounded the corner, only to run smack into Ginny Weasley.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I – oh. It's just you." the girl muttered. Draco lifted a brow at the red-headed best friend of his current room-mate.

"Oh, no, by all means... please, just walk right into me, and then _insult_ me." he muttered. The girl rolled her eyes.

"Save your self-pity for someone who actually gives a rat's arse, Malfoy." she snapped. "Have you seen Hermione?"

Draco arched a brow at the girl.

"Of course I have." he answered. "I'm currently living with her."

The redhead glared up at the Slytherin before her, a scowl on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"You know what I mean, _Ferret."_ she growled, before her eyes flicked to the badge proclaiming him Head Boy. "I will never understand why McGonagall made _you _Head Boy."

Draco scowled down at the girl, his patience wearing thin.

"Granger was off to make her rounds, the last I checked. Why don't you start near the library? I'm sure she'll have found _some _excuse to visit the damned place." he sneered. The Weaselette narrowed her eyes at him, before turning on her heel and storming off.

Draco let go of a breath, rolling his eyes and wondering how in the world Potter put up with that wretched girl for more than five minutes. Clearly, Granger's falling out with the youngest Weasley son hadn't affected her relationship with the rest of the family.

He scowled, before continuing on his way. Other than his unpleasant run-in with the high-strung Gryffindor, Draco met with no other distractions, and was able to make it to the Great Hall before it got too crowded. Granger, of course, was already seated at the Gryffindor table, her attention on a book in front of her as she absently stirred something in a cup.

A small smile curved Draco's mouth as he went to take a seat near the end of the Slytherin table. Piling food onto his plate without really paying attention to what he was grabbing, Draco continued to watch the girl. He was becoming more and more fascinated with her, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why.

_'She saved your bloody life, after you sat and watched as your hideous aunt tortured her, you blithering idiot.' _a small voice in the back of his mind snapped. _'Of course you're fascinated by her.'_

Draco arched a brow. His conscience was kind of a catty bitch.

Glancing down at his schedule as he peeled the wrapper off of a muffin, he saw that Slytherin and Gryffindor were sharing a Defense Against the Dark Arts class first thing that morning. He almost laughed.

Like they _needed_ any more training in Defense Against the Dark Arts after what they'd been through. The idea was laughable, and a little insulting.

From McGonagall's start of term speech, they all knew that their new Defense professor was an Auror who had fought in the war. But since he or she had yet to arrive at Hogwarts by that time, they were unsure of who that was. McGonagall had decided to keep this information a secret from the students, and so they were all anxious to learn who would be instructing them that year.

Draco's train of thought was interrupted by a raised voice across the hall.

"...and furthermore, Ginny, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't speak of him like that. Regardless of his past, Malfoy is a human being who defected to our side -"

"Only when he realized that he and his horrible family were on the _losing_ side!" Ginny snapped, glaring at her fellow Gryffindor.

Draco lifted his head, curiosity sparking. From what he could tell, Granger was none too happy with her supposed best friend.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Ginevra." she replied, her voice cold and hard.

"Except for my brother, right?" Ginny shot back.

_'Oh, shit.'_

Granger took a deep breath, glancing around the room. By now, nearly all eyes were on the pair, and it was clear to Draco that while she may have been the brains of the Golden Trio, Granger didn't much care for being in the spotlight.

"That is a personal matter, Ginny, one which I would prefer not to be discussed in front of the entire school." she said stiffly. The girl scoffed.

"Oh, of course. Wouldn't want your precious reputation to be tarnished by the fact that you left my brother because of a mistake he made during the war!" she shouted.

"That _mistake_ was getting Cho Chang pregnant!" Granger shrieked in reply.

_'Oh, SHIT.'_

With that, Granger stood, and stormed from the Great Hall, her robes nearly getting caught in the heavy doors as they swung shut. Draco glanced back towards the Gryffindor table, to find Ginny glaring at him from across the hall. He lifted a brow, before getting to his feet, and following Granger out.

He caught up with her halfway to their classroom, wondering how in the hell she had gotten so far so fast without getting winded, while he had to stop to catch his breath.

"What... was that... about?" he panted. Granger arched a brow at him, before rolling her eyes and pausing so that he could get his breathing back under control.

"Just Ginny being Ginny." she replied curtly.

"I thought you two were friends?" he muttered, straightening up a bit. Granger sighed, glancing down at her feet.

"We were... _are..._ it's just... Ron and I kissed during the war, and I thought things would pick up after that... and they did, for the most part. Until..." She trailed off.

"Until you learned that he'd knocked up that Ravenclaw girl." he finished. Granger winced, nodding.

"Yeah."

Draco peered at her, feeling as if he were truly seeing her for the first time. Before him was a witch who had been through so much, only to have her heart broken by the Weasel.

Sudden rage boiled up inside of him, and his jaw began to ache. When Hermione – _wait, since when was it Hermione, and not Granger?! – _lifted her eyes to his, however, his rage calmed.

"We should get to class," she said quietly. "Maybe the new professor is there already!"

With that, the Gryffindor took off down the hall, excited glee bleeding from her pores. Draco stared after her for several long moments, before grinning and following after her.

He ran through the classroom door seconds after she had, only to stop dead in his tracks. Behind the desk sat John Dawlish, an Auror Draco's aunt had forced him to torture personally. The man looked up, his nearly white eyes piercing Draco.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy." he said, voice soft. "Please... take a seat. I very much look forward to having you in my class..."


	3. Show and Tell With Professor Dawlish

**A/N: Alright you guys! Another chapter. Not entirely sure how I feel about this one, but all that matters is how _you_ feel about it! So, please, let me know... review! ;D**

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**- Hermione -**

Hermione stopped short at the professor's tone, before she glanced back at Draco. He had frozen in the doorway, his face paler than usual.

Clearly, something had happened between these two during the war. She'd heard about the Auror having been captured during the war, and she surmised that Draco must have had something to do with his _'interrogation'._

Usually, this fact alone would have been enough to raise Hermione's own ire against the former Death Eater, but for some reason, she felt the strange need to protect him.

"Professor Dawlish," she said softly, tone placating. "While I can understand the pain of torture during war times, I can assure you that whatever Draco did in order to take part in yours was entirely against his will."

The wizard turned his nearly white eyes to her, a slight scowl curling his lower lip.

"Miss Granger..." he drawled. "Why are you defending him?"

"Because the war is _over, _Professor Dawlish." she replied softly. The Auror watched her for several long moments, before a faint smile played about his lips.

"For you, perhaps." he said quietly, as students began to file into the class. Hermione glanced back at Draco, to find him looking at her with a stunned expression on his face. She smiled a little, before nodding her head at a table at the back of the room.

Draco swallowed visibly, walking with jerky movements to the table the witch had indicated. He sat down heavily, as Hermione took the seat beside him.

"I won't let him do this," she promised, voice low. Draco glanced at her.

"Why do you care?" he asked quietly. Hermione turned her head to look at him, a soft smile on her face.

"Someone has to."

With that, she turned her eyes back to front of the classroom, but she could still feel Draco's gaze on her as Dawlish began to speak.

"Good morning," he murmured. "As some of you may know, I am Auror John Dawlish. I will be instructing you in Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."

The students in the room murmured their greetings, many of them drawing their books and notebooks from their bags.

"As I am sure many of you are aware, Hogwarts is currently playing host to a Death Eater by the name of Draco Malfoy." Dawlish went on, his eyes sweeping over the class. Hermione stilled, as Dawlish began walking towards the back of the room. "Now, a Death Eater is marked by a very distinguishable tattoo on his or her left forearm. Mr. Malfoy... would you care to show us _your _mark?"

Everyone in the room turned to look at Draco, their faces carefully blank as Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Auror.

"That is quite unnecessary, Professor." she said, voice stiff.

"On the contrary, Miss Granger." Dawlish replied, smiling over at the girl. "I believe that it is _quite_ necessary. I intend to teach everyone how to recognize a dark witch or wizard... and how to _deal _with one, should they ever be so unlucky."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Dawlish simply continued speaking.

"Although... it would appear that _you, _Miss Granger, already _know _how to recognize a dark wizard." he mused. "Tell me... did you enjoy being tortured at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange?"

Beside Hermione, Draco stilled.

"Don't speak to her of that." he snapped, his eyes locked on the unopened book in front of him. Dawlish chuckled softly.

"My, my... what strange bedfellows you keep, Miss Granger." he murmured. "Now, I only ask, mind you, because you seem so _insistent _on defending this man. One can only assume... now, then, where were we... ah, yes. Mr. Malfoy, I do believe that we are waiting for you to show us your mark."

"That is _enough." _Hermione growled, getting to her feet. The look she leveled Dawlish with would have made Voldemort himself take a backward step. "I am not about to _sit here _and allow you to bully someone who, by all rights, deserves a clean slate."

Dawlish surprised Hermione by laughing.

"Sit down, you silly girl." he said, waving a dismissive hand. "This is not something that concerns you, regardless of your seeming infatuation with this man."

Hermione's eyes narrowed into tiny slits, and before she knew what she was doing, she'd shoved her hand into the right pocket of her robes, and drawn her wand. It was level with the man's heart.

"No, _you _sit down." she growled, stalking around the edge of her desk. "You have _no _right to force him to do this, simply because _you're_ still upset over the fact that you were dismissed from field work for being... oh, what was the word they used? _Inadequate."_

Several gasps rose around the room, but Hermione wasn't done.

"To be quite frank, _Professor, _I don't believe that you possess the qualifications necessary to _teach _Defense Against the Dark Arts. Don't you need... oh, at least passable skill in magic to perform even the most _basic _of defensive spells?"

By this point, Dawlish was red in the face, many of the students in the room snickering at Hermione's complete dismissal of this man's magical ability.

"Now," she continued, much to Dawlish's dismay. "If you are _quite _finished with your attempt to humiliate both Draco and myself, can we proceed with class? Or are you intent on forcing me to contact Minister Shacklebolt?"

At the stare of barely concealed rage, Hermione smiled, lowering her wand, and turning her back on the man.

"That's what I thought." she mused, before retaking her seat. When Dawlish simply continued to stare at her, she cocked her head to the side. "Well? Do you plan on _'teaching'_ us anything today, or are you simply going to stare at me?"

The man's face contorted in rage, before he swept from the classroom. Hermione sighed.

"Oh, no... I think I've hurt his feelings."

Several people chuckled, some Slytherins looking at the Gryffindor with new-found respect.

Beside her, Draco was looking at her with a strange expression on his face.

"You... you didn't have to do that." he said quietly. Hermione glanced over at him, a smile on her face.

"But I did." she replied softly. Draco peered at her, confusion written all over his face. He had just opened his mouth to speak, when Dawlish stormed back into the room. He was followed by a tired looking Professor McGonagall.

"...very rude and hurtful remarks!" Dawlish was growling. McGonagall looked at Hermione.

"Why is it, Miss Granger, that whenever something happens, it is always _you_ _three?"_ she asked, repeating an edited version of the question she'd posed to Hermione, Harry, and Ron during their sixth year at Hogwarts. Hermione smiled.

"Believe me, Professor. I've been asking myself the same question for seven years." she replied. McGonagall sighed, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth, before she nodded towards the door.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, if you would, please, follow me..." she murmured, before pivoting on her heel, and exiting the room. Hermione cast a somewhat smug smile at Dawlish, before she and Draco followed the witch out.

The walk to the Headmistress' office was a quiet one, Hermione and Draco keeping an even pace behind the woman as her ever-present emerald green robes billowed out behind her. When finally, they stepped onto the lift that would lead them to McGonagall's office, it was almost a relief.

Hermione glanced over at Draco with an encouraging nod, as the two of them walked further into the Headmistress' office. The witch walked around the edge of her desk, to sit in the high-backed chair.

"Now, Miss Granger," she began, leaning forward with her elbows on the desk. "While I don't at all blame you for your actions towards Professor Dawlish, for he was entirely out of line, I must impress upon you the fact that you are no longer simply a student here. You are Head Girl, and thus lead by example."

"Exactly," Hermione said, no hesitation in her voice. _"I lead by example. _ Meaning that, perhaps, if the other students see me take a stand against discriminatory behaviors displayed by anyone, be it professor or student, they will do the same. I'm not sorry for the things I said to Professor Dawlish – he was intent on humiliating Draco, and I was not about to sit there and allow it to happen."

McGonagall smiled a little.

"And it is for that fact that I choose not to punish you." she mused. "I apologize, on behalf of Professor Dawlish, for -"

"No." Draco said, surprising the two women.

"I beg your pardon?" McGonagall asked, a brow raised. Draco set his jaw.

"Dawlish is the one who needs to apologize to her. Not you, on his behalf, _him._ The things he said to her in that classroom were cruel and uncalled for." he growled. McGonagall frowned.

"Such as, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked, genuinely confused. Hermione closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as Draco continued.

"He insinuated that she enjoyed being tortured by Bellatrix!" he spat, his voice raised and his gray eyes blazing. McGonagall's eyes widened, before her face went blank.

"Did he, now." she said softly, her expression unreadable. "Well, that is entirely inappropriate. I will be speaking to the Minister, and we will be finding a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Miss Granger, you may return to your dorm until your afternoon classes; I believe you've had enough practice in Defense Against the Dark Arts to last a lifetime."

Hermione snorted.

"You could say that," she mumbled. McGonagall smiled faintly, before her eyes shifted to Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you wouldn't mind, I must have a word with you in private." she said. Draco frowned, sharing a look with Hermione, before he nodded.

Hermione, though curious as to what McGonagall would need to say to Draco, left the office. Her curiosity, however, got the better of her, and so she decided to simply wait at the bottom of lift for Draco to be finished with the Headmistress.

She waited for what felt like an hour, glancing up at every little sound as the seconds ticked by. Why she _cared _to learn what McGonagall had to say to Draco, or even why she'd chosen to defend him against Dawlish, was beyond her. These things just felt... natural, almost.

When Draco finally came down the lift, he had a stony expression on his face, though he didn't look altogether surprised to see her there.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, a frown on her face. Draco sighed, not looking at her.

"My father was sentenced to life in Azkaban." he muttered. "Mother was granted parole, given the fact that she saved Potter's life, but it's conditional... come the winter holiday, I'm to join her at the Manor, along with someone chosen by the Ministry, to oversee her behavior."

"Who?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piquing. Draco chanced a look up at her, ducking his head a bit as a heavy cloak of embarrassment settled over him.

"You."


	4. Animal Instinct

**A/N: Woo! This was a fun chapter to write. Seriously... I don't think I've ever done something like this. I'm kind of surprised at myself!**

**That being said, my lovelies, _this _is where the M rating comes in. There is _heavy _adult content below, so if you're opposed to reading this, then I'd suggest you find a tamer story. Because it will only get dirtier from here.**

**However, for those of you who _do_ enjoy reading this kind of thing, then by all means... read on. And _please, _review! :)**

* * *

**- Hermione -**

Hermione blinked at him. Surely, she hadn't just heard him right.

"Ah... pardon?" she muttered, lifting a brow. Draco blew out a forceful breath, lowering his eyes so that he was staring down at the floor.

"The Minister for Magic believes that you would be the ideal choice to oversee my mother's rehabilitation, given your belief that people can change, and that those who do deserve a second chance." he replied. Hermione frowned.

"Well that's... flattering." she grumbled. Draco peeked up at her.

"Also, she requested that you be the one to do it." he said hurriedly. "She believes that if anyone is going to help her see the error of her ways, it is going to be a... a muggle-born." Hermione pursed her lips.

"Less flattering, but still doable." she mused. "I've no home or family to return to for the holiday, so staying with you and your mother will be no hassle." Draco's brow furrowed.

"You... haven't restored your parents' memories, I take it." he muttered. Hermione smiled tightly.

"Not yet." she confirmed. "But the Ministry is confident that it will happen soon."

Draco nodded, a small frown pulling at his mouth.

"Where... would you have stayed, had the Minister not decided you were the one to oversee my mother's rehabilitation?" he asked, his tone hesitant. Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"Probably with the Weasleys." she admitted. "And if that failed, then I suppose I would have just stayed here."

Draco looked at her, an almost pitying expression on his face. She narrowed her eyes a bit, as if daring him to voice that pity.

"Ah... well. We have more than enough room at the manor for you to stay with us." he mumbled. Hermione's face pinched in a sour expression.

"Yes. I am aware of that." she said quietly. Draco looked up, paling.

"Hermione, I didn't mean -"

"You called me Hermione..." she mumbled, eyes slowly widening. Draco paused.

"I... ah, is that.. alright?" he asked. Hermione arched a brow.

"Well, it's my name, so..." She smiled. "Yes, it is quiet alright."

Draco breathed out what seemed to be a sigh of relief, a small smile etching itself onto his face. Hermione found herself speaking before she'd even thought of it.

"I like your smile. You should do it more. Smile, I mean."

Almost immediately, Draco's smile melted into a scowl.

"I haven't always had reasons to smile." he grumbled. Hermione tilted her head to the side, before a faint smile crossed her own face.

"Then I suppose we'll have to find reasons to make you smile." she said simply. Draco arched a brow.

"We?" he asked. Hermione grinned.

"Well, yes. You, yourself, can't be very entertaining, so that will have to fall to me."

Draco blinked at her.

"You get a five second head start."

"Pardon?"

"Five... four... clock's ticking, Granger."

Hermione's eyes widened, before she giggled, spun on her heel, and took off down the hall. Because class was in session, she could hear Draco running behind her. He was fast, but she was faster – months on end of running from just about everyone will do that to a person.

She turned corner after corner, hoping to lose him, but Draco remained right behind her. She tried to keep her giggling as subdued as possible as she ran, but by the time she entered the corridor housing their dorm, she was breathless.

_"Albus Dumbledore!"_ she shrieked at the portrait, not stopping as it swung open hastily. Giggling wildly, she jumped through the portrait hole, twisting around just in time to see Draco leap in after her.

They collided mid-jump, tumbling to the floor just inside their dorm in a heap of breathless laughter. Hermione didn't even mind that Draco had landed on top of her, effectively pinning her to the floor.

"God _damn,_ Granger, where did you learn to run like that?" he asked, out of breath. Hermione laughed, poking at his shoulder.

"A girl never reveals her secrets, Mr. Malfoy." she answered, mimicking something she had grown up listening to her mother say. Draco grinned down at her, lifting a brow.

"Does that mean I'm going to have to figure it out?" he asked. Hermione paused at his tone.

_'Holy shit. Is he _flirting _with me?!'_

Her mouth, however, seemed to be a bit slow when it came to catching up to her brain.

"Perhaps it does," she replied, her tone matching his. Draco chuckled softly, shaking his head a bit. As he did so, his bangs swept down to tickle her cheek, and without thinking, she brushed them back.

They both stilled, their eyes locked, and Hermione's fingers still in Draco's silky white-blonde hair. He heart thrummed loudly in her chest, and suddenly, she was _very _aware of the seriously hot Slytherin on top of her.

_'Woah, wait a second, since when do you think Draco Malfoy is seriously hot?...'_

She was dimly aware of the fact that Draco had lowered his head a fraction, his eyes still locked with hers. Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione had closed the small distance between them, lifting her head and pressing her lips to his.

For a terrifying moment, Draco didn't move.

However, once that moment was up, he was kissing her back. And Merlin, did this boy know how to _kiss._

She made a small noise of contentment in the back of her throat, and Draco growled, nipping her lower lip. She gasped, and he took advantage of that, deepening the kiss.

Draco's hands smoothed up her sides, and even through the layers of clothing she wore, she felt the heat of his skin as if she were wearing nothing. Her hips had lifted, at some point, so that he was cradled between them.

She yanked her mouth away from his, her breathing coming in short, fast pants.

"What..." she breathed, trying and failing to slow her racing heart as he began trailing kisses down the side of her neck. "Draco... what are we doing?"

"Don't care." he mumbled, pressing himself against her. She gasped as his hardness pressed against the bare flesh of her thigh, her skirt having been shoved up to her hips.

"Draco..." she breathed, her thighs tensing as he pressed closer, grinding his pelvis against hers. Against her will, a tiny moan escaped from between her lips, a fact that seemed to further encourage Draco. He repeated his movements, and she dragged his mouth back up to hers.

She found her hands traveling down to the front of his pants, her fingers brushing over his erection as she fumbled for the button. He groaned against her mouth, thrusting his hips against her hand.

A sort of feral smile twisted her lips, and for reasons she couldn't explain, a rush of power went through her at his reaction. She allowed her fingers to brush against him again, eliciting a sharp growl from him as she did so.

"Unless you're prepared to deal with what you're doing to me, I'd suggest you stop that." he hissed. Hermione expelled a breathy laugh, yanking down the zipper of his pants, and slipping her hand inside. She found the slit in the front of his boxers, and before Draco had the time to protest, her fingers were already wrapped around his rock hard cock.

Draco's entire body jolted, his teeth clenching against a stream of profanities. She smiled wickedly at his reaction, not fully understanding where this boldness had come from.

"Hermione, you – _oh, fuck!"_

She trailed her fingers lightly down his length, rubbing small, delicate circles into his heated flesh as she did so. Now he was the one panting, and Hermione was grinning like the cat that got the canary.

"What was that?" she whispered, trailing her fingers gently up and down his stiff member. He moaned, his entire body trembling under her ministrations.

"Hermione..." he whispered reverentially, breathing hard. She smiled, closing her fingers around his cock and squeezing. Draco groaned, his breath hot against her cheek as his hips gave a tiny thrust. She grinned, and, taking his silent suggestion, began to slowly drag her closed fist up and down along his member.

Draco swore hotly, bracing himself above her as she quickened the movements of her hand. Growling, his left hand slid from her hip to between her legs. She parted them eagerly, and he moaned again as his fingers came into contact with her wet heat.

He yanked her panties to the side, and before she had time to react, he shoved two fingers into her. She bit back a curse, closing her eyes as his fingers began to pump in and out, his thumb rubbing circles against her clit as he did so.

She quickened her ministrations, and so did he, and before long, the two of them were writhing and moaning in pleasure.

"Fuck..." Hermione whispered, her eyes squeezed shut as a delicious fire licked its way through her loins. Above her, Draco chuckled throatily.

"We can do that, too, if you'd like." he said shakily. When he spoke next, his voice was at her ear. "Cum for me."

Hermione groaned, Draco's fingers pumping faster and faster, his thumb rubbing erratic patterns against her clit. And as her body obeyed his command, she sobbed his name, her entire being quivering.

He swore hotly as his own climax overtook him, squeezing his eyes shut as he came. Hermione continued to stroke him, her limbs trembling as Draco kissed her roughly.

Something sharp nicked her lower lip, the small sting a shock to her system. She brushed it off as nothing, slowly opening her eyes to lock with Draco's molten gaze.

"You're going to want to remove your hand, unless you want me to take you here and now on this floor." he muttered, the intensity of his voice sending a shiver through her.

"I don't know that I'd be entirely opposed to that idea." she heard herself reply. Draco groaned, the sound low and guttural, as his lips crashed down against hers.

This kiss was soft and gentle, his lips moving against hers like they were made to do just that. She lifted her arms to wrap them around Draco's neck, drawing him closer as she did so.

When he pulled his lips away from hers, she growled softly in protest. Draco smiled a bit, leaning his forehead against hers.

"What..." he muttered. "What does this mean, exactly?"

Hermione considered that question, brow furrowing slightly as she did so. What _did _this mean?

A satisfied smile twisted her mouth, and she knew exactly what it meant.

"This means you're mine." she whispered. Draco's answering grin was a wicked one.

"I was hoping you'd say that."


End file.
